


of peaches and talons, my dearest

by sisinala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dragon!Kylo/Ben, F/M, Fantasy royalty au, Feeding Kink, GASP, Inappropriate Use of Libraries, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Monster Husband, Other, Princess!Rey, Rey is offered to Naboo as tribute, but food is used for smexy times, maybe I guess, plot there is no plot, reylo prompt fill, the prince is the dragon, those poor poor books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22031065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisinala/pseuds/sisinala
Summary: “Why are you hiding? You are a king.”“Most kings are not monsters.”“False. Most kings are.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Kylo Ren
Comments: 26
Kudos: 147
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beloved beta and prime enabler [ @jovenlovebot](https://twitter.com/jovenlovebot). This is for the lovely [ @avamarga_](https://twitter.com/avamarga_)
> 
> The prompt was: "Alderaan and Jakku have been at war for years. Alderaan offers peace, starting with a marriage of Jakku noblewoman to their monstrous black knight. Since no noble family would give their daughter Plutt disguises his servant Rey as royalty and offers her hand in marriage. During the ceremony, the knight removes his helmet and Rey happily discovers that her new husband is: 
> 
> a) the prince;  
> b) freaking hot."
> 
> But now he's a dragon because I am what I am :)

She wished the carriage had a window. 

It had been hours, and her neck, her back, her hips--all of her, really--had started aching a few miles back, but Rey fought the urge to scratch at the itchiness of the lace on her wrists for fear of tearing it. Silk and whispers of gossamer finer than the ones most ladies in Jakku wore pooled at her feet, the dress crafted with the most skillful hands a small kingdom can buy. It was beautiful and ill-fitting, something only a princess of Jakku was allowed to wear, with the shape of the symbol of her seat--the nightbloomer, a flower that bloomed so rarely in the desert that it’s half myth--in the flowing silhouette of the skirts. But Rey was no princess. She wasn’t even of Jakku. A few weeks ago, she’d been a scavenger.

Scavengers were no slaves, as slavery had been outlawed decades ago, with a kindly queen of a far off land rallying to raise her people above the crushing weight of its cruelty and kingdoms soon followed for fear of rebellion or shame. 

There were no more slaves. 

But here she was. 

The carriage did not give a single jostle in the three day’s worth of travel from her kingdom in the center of the continent to the coasts, not even when they were traveling over rocky mountain paths, but the smoothness of the ride made her more uncomfortable than if it was shaking her from wall to wall as the Jakku carts usually did. Rey looked toward the door once more. She could easily pull out the pins on the hinges, jump out of the carriage and run. It would not matter where she was, the desert and its fallen starships had raised her--she would survive anywhere. She could run fast. Her parents could be standing there, in front of the creaking door of the fallen mechanical beast that sheltered her for most of her life, thanking its hollowed-out belly and dented and rusted panels for keeping her safe from the sandstorms. They could be waiting right now. 

She knocks on the wood in front of her--not as daintily as she was hastily instructed to, but in quick, harsh raps, raising her voice so that the coachman could hear. 

“I need to step out.” Her legs were aching, and the coachman had told her to just knock in case she needed to rest. It was the first kindness she’d ever been given without the expectation of something in return. Who knew that for people to be kind to you, you only had to be decked out in your country’s finest? 

“Is it urgent, my lady? We are almost at the castle. If you could wait a bit more, we would be there in half an hour. The emperor has instructed me to refrain from stopping once we are in Naboo.”

“We’re here already?”

“Yes, my lady.” It was strange to hear those words refer to her, but in the long weeks that preceded this journey, she’d been treated as such that she now was almost desensitized to it. But that does not mean that she felt like she belonged. 

Rey bit her lip. It didn’t matter, no one could see yet.

“How is he?” It took her all of three days, but now that she was moments away from it, she had the courage to ask. 

“How is who?”

_ “Him. _ Kylo Ren.”

“Oh.” The coachman hesitates for long moments, leaving her alone to the sound of the wheels rolling on smooth stones. He was silent long enough that she thought that he would not answer, and she was lost to thoughts of dunes and gleaming ships. 

“He is… scarce.”

“I think all kings are.” She hadn’t even known the king, or what passed for a king in Jakku, until he took her in to sell to her to Naboo. No one, no matter how desperate or hungry, in the long decades he sat as the junk’s boss, had been willing to take the foul-breathed, grabby-handed, slimy Crolute as husband. As such he had no heir. So when it was Jakku’s turn to offer up a bride to Naboo, all the wealthy had hidden their daughters and forced him to find another solution. Unfortunately for her, it had been the day she was trying to trade in her month’s haul of scraps.

_ “In Naboo you won’t have to ask to eat. The king will feed you for the short year that you are his wife. If you live after he takes another, you can come back and all the rations you ask for the rest of your life, you will have.” _ By that time, she was living off of what she could scrape from the bottom of her pans that she’d been tempted to agree.  _ “If you come back after the year is done, I will tell you who sold you to me.”  _

And so it was. 

“Scarce enough that we’ve never seen him in the castle after his coronation?”

“Maybe he enjoys laundering around taverns and kissing ladies’ hands and stealing wives from their husbands? Isn’t that what all kings do?”

“No, my lady. It’s not that he’s rarely doing his duty, it’s because no one’s seen him at all.”

“Oh. Then who runs the kingdom? What does he do? Haunt his castle in dark cloaks and count the windows? Drink his wine cellars dry and frighten his servants? He’s been king for half a year, isn’t the point of royalty to try and launder it all away?”

“He sends...letters. And he meets with his advisers, I believe. They seem to trust him, and after he took the throne, it feels like things are turning for the better. I hope.”

“The king before him. Snoke. He had many wives. Is it true what they say, about them?”

“It’s real. Unfortunately so. Worse than the stories, even. I’m very sorry.”

“Will he be the same?”

“I don’t really know, my lady. But for your sake, I hope not. You seem strong, but there’ve been many strong girls who walked into those castle doors and none of them came out. I pray that whatever monster Kylo Ren is, he would be kinder to you.”

The carriage comes to a stop. Rey straightens her spine and fixes her jaw higher in the air, swallowing and hoping that the sting in her eyes would not worsen as Finn opens the door. Used to the soft, muted bulb that burned inside the closed carriage, Rey squinted against the harsh light of the sun as it crept on the open seam of the door. Finn hurriedly covered her with an umbrella with dark cloth sewed into the edges long enough that it dragged on the floor. Rey ducked her head under it and the ridiculous veil that the servants had pinned into place seemed all the more useless. True princesses of Jakku were not allowed to see the sun before they are wed, and one look at her burnt and freckled skin would tell anyone that she was a fraud. But the ring was on her finger and the price had been paid. 

The cloth was heavy but thin enough that some of the light passed through and she could see curious bodies tilted to where she was. From afar, she could make out the slight outline of neatly trimmed trees, tall and green and lush, unlike the dry and stout cacti that she was used to. Gleaming buildings framed the horizon, and if she squinted a bit she could make out the blue of the ocean. She breathed, and from all that she smelled, the only scent she recognized on her tongue was salt. 

They made it inside, and several hallways and staircases that she did not remember because she was too scared to take it all in. Halfway through, she closed her eyes and gripped Finn’s arm. The umbrella was gone, but she still couldn’t make out his face entirely due to her veil, but he smiled at her reassuringly when she squeezed too hard. 

The hallways of Jakku's castle had been laden with gaudy paintings by skilled artists of great renown, statues stolen from a civilization now buried in sand, all guarded by rows and rows of foreign guards because Plutt trusted no one from Jakku to not steal from him. Here, the walls were bare except for the occasional lighting fixture and the greenery that flooded every inch of Naboo. She wanted to reach out and touch one of the red, heart-shaped flowers that looked so much like a leaf but they passed by too quickly that she did not have time to ask. 

They come to a small, narrow staircase that ended with the smallest door she'd ever seen. She looked to Finn in confusion, but he was busy steeling himself, and now  _ he _ was gripping her hand on his arm. 

He raised his hand to knock three times. 

"Mitaka, I told you I was not to be disturbed. Come back tomorrow, I will have the bridge plans by then. Tell Hux to wait." A booming voice echoing as if he was speaking in a cathedral, with a hint of exhaustion and a whole lot of irritation. 

Finn swallowed, then puffed out his chest before speaking, "My lord it's Finn, your uh--appointed coachman? I've brought the Princess Rey Niima of Jakku."

"Jakku has no princess."

"I've come to you as Jakku's tribute, Kylo Ren. It seems rude to leave your bride waiting behind a closed door, don't you think?"

Finn looked towards her in a panic, but she merely sighs. 

"If you won't open the door, then can I have lunch first? We'll talk later if you're too busy to receive me." It seems rude, but Rey had never been anything but. Her months of instruction flew by without notice, and she tilted her head mockery as if he could see. 

The door opens, slow and creaking but with no one on the other side. So it is true. Kylo Ren is touched by magic, so powerfully so that the rush of it confirmed that the tingles on her skin she'd been feeling the moment she set foot on the castle had been him. 

"Thank you for your service, Finn. But there has been a mistake. I did not demand nor need tribute wives, especially those that seem intent on disrupting me at every waking moment if this conversation is to be a standard. Please inform Lord Hux that the old ways are dead and he serves  _ me, _ now, not Snoke. Hurry along now. It seems I have to apologize to the Princess of Jakku."

Finn looks toward her once more, and she nods. He leaves at once, with a single glance that betrayed his worry.

Rey steps inside. 

It was dark, so she could not see much, but the lit lamps at the side of rows and rows of bookshelves and the pale moonlight illuminated enough that she could make out a high vaulted ceiling with great stained-glass panels that the stars twinkled through. The walls were made of old stones. On one side of the room, a fire roared in a great fireplace, and on the other side, a thousand steps that led to a mezzanine that was too high up that she could only see the marble balustrade. She stepped inside, and the door closes slowly by itself once more. She felt the rush of the Force as it passed around her. 

“The door is not locked, Rey. You can leave whenever you want, but I thought you might want some privacy. The walls listen.” His voice was softer, more tentative as if he were scared of  _ her.  _

“Don’t you trust your own servants?”

“Trust is a luxury that cannot be afforded in this kingdom. You  _ know  _ what the former king got from trusting  _ me. _ Do I seem to be someone who believes in trust?”

Rey walks towards the fireplace, feeling the chill of the room creep over her arms and up her back. There is a curious cloud that formed whenever she exhaled, though it was the height of summer. She rubbed her hands over her arms, shivering slightly. 

She hears a movement, like a great big body dragging itself over the floor away from her. She turns toward the sound, intent to follow it from the darkness, but it stops. Rey thinks she could make out the outline of a large creature from where she was, but it was too dark to tell. Was that him? 

“No, stay where you are, princess. Please.”

“Why are you hiding? You are a king.”

“Most kings are not monsters.”

“False. Most kings are.” He chuckled, and the stone walls rumbled in his mirth. 

“Clever princess of Jakku, I apologize for the misunderstanding but it seems that my advisor has overstepped once more and brought you here without purpose. I am not looking for a wife. You are free to go.” Another movement, a rustle, and a sigh. A cold wind blows over her and ruffles her skirts. 

Rey bites her lips and walks around the carpet. 

“I have to stay here. I have to marry you.” A year. She could last a year, can’t she? She doesn’t know how to look for her parents and staying and waiting a year was nothing different from what she’s always done. 

“Jakku has not had a princess for decades. Unless, that bastard plucked you from the sands and named you his heir just to send you to me, which I am sure is what happened. Finn said that your name was Niima? The name of a bastard. Or an orphan. A desert-child of no mother. What did he offer you in return? I see no chains on you.” Rey is reminded of the ring on her finger, the signet ring that only graced her finger a day ago when Plutt had to absolutely let go of it to let the servants put it on her. Then the door to the carriage locked from the outside. 

“My parents. He told me he’d help me find them when I come back.”

“That sounds like a lie.”

“He would not lie about this. His kingdom rests on that truth.”

“You are keen on ignoring what are clear  facts  that do not fit the stories you are telling yourself.”

“You live in darkness. They tell me you’ve not been seen in almost half a year. You know all about lies, don’t you, pretender?”

"Unfortunately, yes. Live here long enough and you will, too.”

“Then you accept? You'll marry me?”

“You are  _ bold.  _ But since you asked so nicely, I am helpless to agree.” The figure rose from the shadows, and she hears the heavy drag of chains scraping on the tiled floors. She imagines eyes in the darkness, glowing red. “I only have one condition, dearest. When you leave,” he breathes, “You will say goodbye before you do."

Rey stepped forward, at the edge of the light of the fire, a step from the darkness. She feels him exhale, and it chills her all over. 

"Why?" He huffs once. 

"I want to be a friend to my wife. But if you prefer us not to be, then I will honor that. I only ask that you not visit this place if you decide not to. I have lost too much to lose you, too."

"You won't lose me." She took a step towards him, stepping into the darkness. He moves away. 

"It's late. I'm sure that they've served lunch upstairs. You should eat." He turns his attention toward the books, she hears him shuffling among the shelves.

"Shouldn't you, too?"

"I'll call for a servant. I don't eat upstairs. It's too noisy."

"You should know your people."

"I know them well enough, dearest."

He stays silent after that. She does not move from where she is.

"I don't think I'm ready to face your court. Not yet. Can I dine with you?"

It takes him a long time to answer, but he does. 

"If you want to." 


	2. sharp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So this took forever but as you can see this is a trend with me :'( but I'm currently writing the next chap (ps if you're here for the smexy times it's gonna be on the last chap sorry again) )

The food arrived. And arrived and arrived. By the time the servants were done wheeling in carts and leaving them a bit inside the door, there had been enough food under metal covers that could feed a small group of soldiers. She ripped her veil carelessly from where it was pinned and it caught once on her hair but she was rid of it soon enough. Rey approached the carts, drawn in by the smell of roasted meat, soups she cannot name, about twenty different kinds of cheese, and fruits that she was sure did not grow in this land. Her hand hesitated on the handle, hovering over one before putting it down and looking towards the Emperor.

"Choose anything you want. I'll eat after you."

"It's alright. Let's eat together." Rey spared a glance in the direction of his voice and then lifted one of the metal lids-- _cloche_ , Rey rolled her eyes at this--and took in a deep breath of buttery shrimp. Unable to help herself, she licked her lips as she lifted more lids. 

“I’d rather not.”

“I believe that the best way to have a conversation is by having it during a meal. These smell so good.” 

_“Rey.”_ It was an appeal without further meaning, just her name spoken in an exasperated but gentle, conceding manner. She felt the chill of his heavy sigh. She retrieved a plate from a stack and eagerly forgets her manners and stacked piles of food on top of it. When her pile climbed high enough that there was a danger of it toppling, she remembered that beast as he was, he was still a king. Blushing, she turned away, put her fingers in her mouth and sucked the juices away. 

A warm hand encircled her wrist, black scales grew from pale, veined skin from the inside of his arm and out, ending on talons sharp and pointed. She jumped when a cold breath ruffled the hair that fell from the buns on top of her head. He stopped her from turning towards him with a firm hand on her waist, lifting her hand. 

"May I, wife?" She did not understand what he was asking for, but whatever it was, she wanted to give. Nodding too eagerly, she let him raise her hand further until her fingers touched his lips. _Soft, so soft._ Then his tongue, wet and warm unlike the rest of him, darted out to taste his meal on her skin. He took his time with her index finger, drawing a slow, wide line until his lips closed on the tip and he _sucked_ , pulling her finger into his mouth. He groaned, and the hand on her waist climbed up, pushing her just beneath the curves of her breasts towards him. Climbing higher, the hand curls around her neck, tight but still loose enough for her to breathe. His arm crushed her to his chest, solid and unyielding, slanted in the valley between her breasts. 

She whimpered, and she felt his chuckle on her back.

He released her finger with a pop, then proceeded to do the same to the others. A soft rumble in his chest grew stronger as he licked, and by the time he reached her pinky, his pointed teeth started to scrape on her skin. She grew boneless as his other hand mindlessly squeezed with no discernible rhythm on her neck, and she had to lean her hand with the plate on his arm to prevent herself from melting into the floor. He was stoking a fire that crept from her core to the rest of her. The chill of his skin grew colder as her body heated. This should be forbidden. Outlawed. After her fingers, he still wasn't done with her. He ran his tongue on her palm, in the spaces between her fingers, on the pulse on her wrist, nibbling. There were sharp points that dragged lightly but never broke her skin. 

"It's good," he said with her lips on the inside of her arm. He moved away, but she held his wrist, pulling him back to press on her once more. She did not know what she was doing, only that she needed _more_. 

"You can't be done already," she breathed. He called out her name, this time a warning. The soft growl only made her burn hotter. 

"Do you want me to feed you, husband?" His arms went around her waist, crushing the small of her back to the growing hardness between his thighs. She shivered at the thought of it. 

Watering holes in Jakku were the only places to bathe, and most of the residents stripped to nothing as they washed their bodies. As she was alone, Rey never felt safe enough to do so, so she stuck to the sides and bathed when the sun hid and the desert turned the water freezing cold. Occasionally, drunkards in Jakku wander the streets drunk out of their senses, pulling at their clothes until they were naked. Rey had seen her fair share of men's bodies, but never even thought of touching any one of them. She'd never been interested in the pleasures of the flesh, but she wanted him, this king who was strange and tall and wide, with his body that could crush her with his weight. 

"Do not taunt me, dearest. I hunger for more than what you are willing to offer." The words vibrated in her ear, and she could feel his voice rumbling in his chest against her back. 

"We are wed already, aren't we? They sent Plutt your seal. Our names are already written in the book of succession of Jakku." He clicked his tongue and cursed his advisor's name under his breath. 

"I'll have your name written into ours tomorrow." He mumbled this against her fingertips as he ran his lips lightly against them again and again. 

"Then you are mine."

"As are you. Little princess of Jakku, I hope you do not regret marrying me" He turned her around slowly, leading her with the hand he held as if they were dancing, and the light of the fire caught on his garnet eyes, the gleaming ebony scales that frame his face, and the horns that curled on both sides of his face. His chest was bare, pale skin beneath an open heavy robe, encrusted with black jewels that changed in color as her eyes skipped over them. His pants were high on his waist, but what she could see was peppered with more of those scales, growing thicker as she dragged her eyes down. "I will give you this last chance to run, Rey. If you stay here tonight, you will be mine and I will _never_ be done with you."

Rey was barely listening, her hand reaching out to trace a line down his chest, stopping just short of the edge of his pants. She could feel the heat of his eyes on her but refused to look up. 

"You want me?" It was a strange but not unwelcome feeling. Somehow, she could almost taste his need for her in her tongue, feel it under her fingers as his body vibrated under the tension. He caught her wandering hand in his, pressing it to the hard planes of his chest.

"More than you should allow." He drew her hand up, snatched the plate from her and kissed her palm, then led her to one of the cushions on the floor. Great black wings stretched from his back, and a tail longer than the length of him dragged on the floor. 

"Were you born like this?" The question slipped out before she could stop herself, and she waited for his legendary anger to flare. But his outburst did not come, and he sat down in front of her with a sigh. She knelt next to him, but he drew her in closer, putting her on his lap. She drew her skirts high and straddled him, watching as he swallowed a protest. He cleared his throat. 

"Cursed."

"By whom?"

"By myself."

"You were a prince, were you not? The only heir of three kingdoms?"

"Of three _dead_ kingdoms. They were in decline before I was born, and I led them into deeper darkness. This form is less than what I deserve." He hid his eyes in shame, looking at his hand on top of her skirts.

"You were the dragon in the stories, are you? They called you the Silence. Because men sent to fight you never make it back to tell the stories themselves."

"Yes."

His eyes were dark and lonely, leading him somewhere far away where he was in self-imposed isolation. This small form could barely contain his magic, his skin ached and prickled. He felt like he could burst at any second. Raising her hand to his cheek, running her thumb through the soft scales she found there, Rey brought him back. 

"Are you worried that I would be frightened by you?" He kept silent, only stared at her, worried his lips and flexed his jaw. After a while, he leaned into her touch and tilted his head towards where she held his cheek, nodding. 

"I'm not afraid of you, my king."

"You should be. I could hurt you, Rey. The man you see is not all of me. I have done too much for you to not be afraid of what I can do to you." The words could have easily been a threat, but he only sounded sad and mournful. To distract herself, Rey picked up a chicken leg and gnawed at it, chewing thoughtfully about how she could draw him out of this mood. When she looked at him again, he was staring at her, licking his lips. Waiting for her to offer like the good dragon that he was. Rey drew her tongue out slowly, and his eyes followed. She'd never felt more powerful, sitting on the lap of the most powerful man in all the kingdoms, waiting for him to _beg._

"Open your mouth." He looked afraid but opened his mouth nonetheless. Her fingers pushed a piece of chicken on his tongue, and she dragged her thumb on his lips as she drew her hand away. She fed him by hand, bit by bit, forgoing the utensils tucked in the corner of the plate. He swallowed what she gave, and chewed as she fed herself, always chasing her fingers as they came near his lips. His eyes never leave her, flitting over her nose, her chin, her lips, her collarbones, the dip of her bosom where it was covered by her dress. His hands stay on her waist, kneading softly and pricking her once or twice with his talons. But it was a welcome pain. 

_"Rey."_

"Yes?" His fingers flexed, and she followed the dance they wanted her to move in. She moved her hips over him. 

"You are--"

"Your wife."

"For a moment and a half. This is--"

"I want you." More than she should. But the moment she touched him, she had been lost. She knew he was hers. And _by the stars,_ she would have him. All of him. 

"You don't need to do this. We are wed. I will tell Plutt that--" She dragged herself heavily over his groin, directly over his hardening length. He closed his eyes, groaning. Rey placed the plate on the table away from them, then pressed herself closer to him, hands pressed to either side of his face. He was frightened, but there was a hint of a hopeful smile at the corner of his lips. A single hope he would allow himself as he looks upon her face. 

She is radiant, she is _light._ And she would be his for as long as she would allow. He lets himself smile. His hands climb up her back intending to bring her into an embrace, but before he could, Rey leaned forward. 

Her lips brushed his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im on twitter [ @sinaingsinala](https://twitter.com/sinaingsinala/) if u wanna witness my slow descent into madness as i creep all my wips forward very very very slowly


End file.
